Quid Pro Quo
by Pinda
Summary: Some days are stranger than the really strange ones. What would he do if she turned the tables? Please read first and then review!
1. Chapter 1

Ok. Good.

Request for a new fluoroscope to the left. Above that, application forms of potential assistants. Invitation to Kelly's birthday on Saturday right in from. Right next to it staff meeting with head nurses. Above that, slightly to the left complaint from Gyn about construction site right outside delivery room. In front, on a chair, grinning imbecile, disguised as a 47 year old. Which one to deal with first? Slowly, Cuddy let her eyes linger on the pieces of paper. What had he said? She realised, with sudden surprise, that House had not said a single word. Either that or she was going deaf. No, most unlikely. She looked up at him.

"No!" – "No?" –"No!" -"You don't even know what I want!" –"Do I have to? It doesn't matter what it is, the answer is no!"

The grin changed. For a second, he thought about his tactics. Feign indifference or try a pout? He went for the pout. It was better, the ladies liked it. Most of them.

Suddenly, Cuddy pressed her lips together, took a breath and looked at him like she had just noticed he was in the room. She smiled.

"Dr. House. What can I do for you?"

It wasn't really worth trying to ignore him or boss him out of the office. If she wanted to be left in peace fast, she'd have to deal with him and his boredom. She was pretty sure that's what had brought him here. No case. For two weeks. So let him talk, she thought, pretend you care and send him to clinic. He'll try to avoid it but at least outside this office.

"You sure didn't come here without intention so is there anything I can help you with?"

Preferrably get you out of here, she added mentally. Her smile never faded.

"If you care to ask, there are a couple of things I could use your help with but most of those would need some preparations on your part. Clotheswise."

Now he was smiling as well. And waggling his eyebrows.

Cuddy wasn't sure what to do. Inside her, anger and desperation started raging. She so wanted to have at least one nice, slow day, without fuss and certainly without House bugging her. She felt the tension creeping up her neck. Today, she wasn't in the mood to cope with him. Not enough sleep, burnt tongue from coffee, no lunch, paperwork.

Strangely that was the point where some part of her brain started working independently. If asked later, she could not explain her actions otherwise. She slowly got up, went around the desk towards the door and locked it. She did not turn her head when she let the blinds down but she heard some rustling behind her. Was he interested?

As she turned back towards her diagnostician she saw him craning his neck to look at what she was doing.

So, you want to play dirty, she thought. Well, wo can play that game. With a smile like a Chesire cat she made her way over to him. He turned slightly to face her again. His expression was intrigued but he tried to hide it. What on earth was she up to now?

"You know, if you are going to beat me up, just putting down the blinds won't work."

His smile faltered a little. Confusion set in. And with every step she took in his direction his confusion grew.

He laughed, almost nervously.

"I'll scream, I swear! Beating up a cripple is a serious crime and a new low, even for you!"

"Oh, I don't need to beat you to make you scream now, do I?"

She reached him and bent down to him. Her knee came up and pressed between his thighs. He leaned back unintentionally. Her hands covered his on the armrests and she slid them up his arms lightly. Her face was but an inch away from his and her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What preparations?" –"P-p-preparations?"

He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about but she was definitely too close for his liking. He could feel her breath, brazenly sweet in his face and the soft rise and fall of her chest was tremendously tempting. He swallowed and hoped she didn't notice.

"Yes, you said to help you it would need preparations. Clotheswise. Come on House. Just cut the crap. No more 'Do you like me' and that shit. Let's be honest."

He started to shiver. First it was only where her hands were still gliding over his arms, then it went to his chest and finally down to his legs. He clenched his teeth and willed himself to stop. Too close. Too warm. Too much shivering starting to affect his nether regions.

And she knew. He tried so hard to calm his breathing, he was almost panting from the sheer effort.

She applied just a tad more pressure to her knee between his legs and liked her lips. Deliberately.

"Do you want to do me?"

He barely supressed a groan but he felt it deep in his throat. Her eyes dropped to his lips and back up to his eyes. She raised her eyebrows. He desperately needed to get out of there. That was not how it was supposed to go. He made an insinuating comment – she rolled her eyes and dismissed him. She wasn't supposed to take it as an offer.

She had seldom felt so powerful in his presence. House usually had a way of getting to her but this was the other way around. He was squirming and visibly uncomfortable. Very good.

He opened his mouth only to notice that he had forgotten what he wanted to say. Heat was rushing to his face. Face was good. Stay there. No, don't go lower. The heat spread throughout and went lower. His chest, his stomach.

"Greeeg."

She dragged the name out. And she leant even closer. Her lips were brushing his and he momentarily forgot to breathe. She took the breath for him, sensually.

"Do.You.Want.To.Do.Me?"

Time stood still for a second. He swore he could hear crackling in the air.

Cuddy cocked her head. She smiled. She knew she had won. Only seconds now.

"House?" –"No!"

He growled and pushed her back. He stumbled from his chair, somehow managing to grab his cane and not trip and was at the door, unlocking it in panic and shuffling out of her office as fast as anybody with barely one leg to stand on could.

Cuddy stood in the middle of her office and looked extremely pleased. A giggle came forward, followed by another one and finally laughter bubbled out of her mouth. She got him. That would, for now, put an end to his comments. She let out a deep breath turned around and sat back down at her desk.

Now, fluoroscope, assistant, birthday, meeting, complaint. Which one? Somewhere in the back of her mind she convinced herself that the warmth she felt in her stomach and the slight wobbling of her knees were solely due to the excitement of her plan and the fact that it worked. It had nothing to do with the heat House had been emenating or the way his pupils had dialated when she asked him if he wanted her.

Because he didn't. He couldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you guys for your lovely reviews. I am relieved that you think the story doesn't suck totally.

**So this is chappie two. Still, I am happily ignoring anything spoilery, because I can.**

**I am sorry for the mistakes in chap. one but I still have to figure out how that frigging editor works. It just does not like me because I corrected everything, I swear!**

**So enjoy, and keep the reviews coming!**

House limped into his office without even glancing into the adorning room. He wasn't in the mood for any chitchat. He sat down heavily in his chair and closed his eyes for a second. What had just happened? He pinched himself to make sure was awake and stared dumbly at the red welt on his arm.

Had Cuddy really asked him to 'do her'? As hard as it was to believe, what was even harder to believe was his own reaction to it: he'd been afraid. His thoughts echoed quite loudly in his head and he got the distinctive feeling that something was off. He shook his head. Why would Cuddy do that? Did she want him? Or was she just fucking with his head.

Hmmm, fucki…damn, bad pun. Why was it so quiet?

A sudden rush of air caught him by surprise and he turned around to the door leading out to the balcony.

Wilson stood in the door and looked at him.

"House.", he said. First with a smile, then, more skeptically his eyebrows went up.

"Are you alright? You look, erm, strange, if that was the correct term to use for you but what I am here about…"

He didn't get to finish that sentence.

"What day is it today?" –"Thursday. Listen, I was wondering if you would lend me your L-Word collection this weekend. Not that I am that interested in the show but I don't have anything else to do and it's supposed to be raining, and…"

House glanced around the room and the table in the break room caught his eye.

"Ha!" he pointed at said table.

"What 'Ha!'?" – "Where are they? I am not sure The L-Word is suitable for your age." –"Who?" –"Not who, what. The L-Word!" –"Where's the L-Word?" –"What? No, where are the three Mouseketeers? They're supposed to be next door, doing Doctor stuff, bonding, whatever it is they do at this time of day." –"Lunch?" –"Where?" –"That's where they are. Having lunch."

House's head snapped from Wilson's face to his alarm clock on the desk and back to his friend. He repeated the action to be sure. He scrunched his eyes.

"It's lunch time? Then why am I here?" –"Are you sure you're all right? You seem a little confused." –"Yes, because I need carbohydrates. Let's get lunch."

Wilson hesitated.

"Why don't I believe you?"

House rolled his eyes and leaned forward.

"Well, I didn't want to bother you", he said, "but I seem to have a problem with my leg. I feel like there's something missing. And it kinda hurts."

Wilson closed his eyes and waved his hands. Why did he even try to get personal?

"Ok, nevermind. Lunch?"

House got up quickly, grabbing his cane and making his way to the hallway. Wilson closed the balcony door behind him and followed suit. He was just about to catch up with him. Why was he so fast? Shouldn't he be limping slower?

"Do you have any money?" House asked looking back at his friend.

"No."

House wrinkled his nose.

"Then who's gonna pay for lunch?"

With a sigh Wilson turned around in direction of his office.

"I'll meet you at the cafeteria."

The elevator arrived just as he got to it. With a ping it opened to reveal a smiling Cuddy, taking a step to the left as if to make room for him.

"Dr. House.", she greeted.

"Dr. Cuddy.", he replied as he cleared his throat.

His teeth clenched and he got into the elevator. That was just what he needed. Being in a metal box with her. Close. Not that close, of course. Not close like her knee in his groin, or her hands tickling up his arms. Not her…god dammit man, get out of it! He mentally slapped himself and shook his head as if to emphasize.

The doors closed and he was trapped. He fidgeted with his cane and tried very hard to gaze at anything but her. Inside, his anger was building. What the fuck was this all about, since when was he afraid of a midget bantam whose sole goal in this hospital it was to make him do whatever he wanted the least? Who did she think she was, his boss? He turned to her with a scowl and found her eyes on him.

"Stop staring at me!", he snapped. -"I'm sorry, I didn't know you don't like it. I'll remember next time.", she replied smugly. Someone was in a bad mood.

"What was that all about?" He changed tactics and levelled his voice a little. No matter how mad he was, he was even more curious to know what had gotten her to hit on him.

"Maybe I like looking at you.", she smiled up at him.

"Bullshit, you know exactly what I'm talking about." He lowered his voice deliberately.

"Oh that!", she said like she just remembered, "well, you see, I woke up this morning and realised two things: one was that I am really fed up with you. The other was that no matter how alluring you'd like to believe you are, there is actually nothing behind it. You can stare at my ass all day, talk about your sexual endowment all you want but we both know that you're just talk."

House blinked vexedly. She wasn't serious, was she? Cuddy went on, without once taking her eyes off him.

"Come on, House, you can try and convince people around here you're sleeping with me but do you honestly think anyone actually believes it? Having sex means that you, in effect, would have to let someone get close to you. That's why Cameron never had a chance. She cares for you, genuinely and that scares the hell out of you. Strangely, I do as well, even though I ask myself why every single day. Sleeping with me would involve real emotion and interaction and there are few things you shun more."

His face darkened. How dare she! He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Unfortunately, the only thing that came out of it was a hoarse "You…!", and it left her unperturbed.

"This morning, I just proved my point.", she leaned closer to his ear and to accentuate her point planted her hand low on his belly, "you wouldn't fuck me if I was the last woman on this planet."

A breath caught in is throat and House had to cough. He pushed himself away from her hand and further away from her.

"Has the thought ever occurred to you that I might just not want to fuck you?" He drew the words out. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back to aspire a calm stance.

"You seem to spend a lot of time thinking about me. Even in your bed. Hmmm…"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. Finally, he thought. That was somehow, normal. He could deal with that. But she didn't falter.

"Yeah, yeah, I think about you all the time." She was getting tired of this. "Just admit it House, I am right and you know it. Now, get over it."

He was boiling. If this elevator didn't open soon, somebody was due to get hurt. His voice changed to a deep growl.

"I could take you right now."

She leaned back at the wall bracing her hands against the railing. "Please do."

With a sudden jolt, the elevator came to a halt and the doors pinged open. Cuddy smiled as she sashayed past him. "I knew it."

She walked into the hall to proceed to her office. House spotted Wilson, already at the cafeteria entrance. Wow, he was fast on a staircase.

As he looked after the retrieving Cuddy he just couldn't help it.

"I am sorry, Dr. Cuddy", he called after her, "I am not your sex slave but you sound awfully confident for a woman who has been rejected twice!"

She didn't even turn or stop her pace at the sound of his voice. He was still trying to keep the upper hand. Well, not today! Her voice was loud and clear. "You sound awfully confident for a man with such a small penis!"

The absolute cessation of any sound behind her were good enough for her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, thanx for your reviews, keep them coming because they make me go…on. **

**That's a lame wordplay, isn't it? I can't help it…**

**Here's another installment.**

**Dr. Partypants and Scuddyrific: You'll have to bear with another rather tame chapter. But the loving is on its way, and fast! **

**Some things are just inescapable!**

The rain poured down without mercy. It had started in the early afternoon, gloomy clouds adumbrating the coming downpour and finally breaking loose. For hours there had been a lonely motorcycle standing in the handicapped parking space, being doused. By five o'clock, House wasn't sure if he would make it home through the floods but he did after all, arriving at his apartment dripping and very much feeling like a wet poodle.

He was sitting on his couch, pyjama pants but no shirt, a towel around his shoulders, slippery size 12 ½ footprints crossing the room, leading to the bathroom where a pile of soaked clothes lay, forgotten. He was staring intently at the empty TV screen. It had been about 3 minutes since he noticed he hadn't turned it on but he was too lost in thought and didn't appreciate any noise distracting him.

The day had been utterly strange. It wasn't so much the fact that he had gotten weird stares and had heard supressed giggles after him. He had gone to lunch with Wilson and spotted Cameron, Foreman and Chase in an amicable conversation and he swore they were making fun of him like 10-year-olds. Since when were they bonding and could they be conspiring against him?

Later, he was approached by a little girl in the clinic who had been waiting for her mother(a lousy gastritis but she was convinced she was dying of cancer) and asked him if he was sad he had such a small penis, at last telling him not to worry as her brother had the same condition but was rather carefree about it. Her brother, as it turned out, was seven years old.

At some point he began expecting Wayne and Garth to pop up behind a random corner, wiggling their fingers up and down, going "diddlelididdlelididdle", everything would blur and he'd find himself in another scene.

What he couldn't get out of his mind were a certain pair of blue eyes, boring into his own and a voice, apparently belonging to those eyes but saying things that definitely belonged to someone else. He wasn't afraid of human contact. He shunned dealing with people, all right, patients mostly, even with the ducklings but he was not scared now, was he? Yet he had shunned away from her, not just once but twice. Away from a blatant come on! There needed to be e reason for this, a reason other than Cuddy's because, well, because she had no idea.

Extensive use of narcotics alleviates sexual drive.

No. Waking up in damp boxers, extended showers and phone numbers to a certain escort proved otherwise.

Chivalry.

Oh, for Christs sake, that would be the most idiotic idea!

She wasn't his type.

Ha! Yes, that was it. He didn't like brunettes, yeah, right! his brain quipped. He didn't like blue eyes, even though they've been swirling round your head all day. He didn't like her smooth, silky skin and her gorgeous legs, her fantastic ass and her luscious red lips. Those lips which had been brushing his, hiding her little tongue that would feel delicious in his mouth and on his shoulders and down his torso and…_go on…go lower…keep imagining…_

His eyes shot open. He had slid lower into the couch, his hand tracing the path of the tongue from his fantasy and now resting on his inguinal region. He pulled it away as if he got burnt.

A heavy sigh made its way out of his lungs. It was no use trying to find some explanation because she was probably right.

But he'd be damned if he ever admitted this to her and further was now the time to do something, to get back at her for exposing him. There was one thing to his advantage and that was the simple fact that she knew he would never take her offer. So what if he did? He knew just as well, that she would never go through with it, that much she had told him. She felt safe and that he could exploit recklessly! House smiled to himself, she was going to regret challenging him!

The prey to his developing scheme was currently in a light mood, walking back from the kitchen into the living-room, a fresh beer in one hand and the last remains of a chocolate bar in the other. She collapsed onto the couch and into her cushions, taking up her book again. Waggling her toes and turning to a new chapter, not wasting another thought on a specific head of department. Well, maybe a tiny one, secretly.

The rain poured down outside and she started to wonder just how much longer it would last. If she was unfortunate or maybe really lucky, the streets would be flooded tomorrow and she'd have to stay at home. Hmmm, that was a nice thought. A day of leisure time, reading some more, sleeping through the afternoon, dreaming of…dreaming of what? Maybe of House, just a little. Of some other things she could do to him. Make him wear a lab coat, with nothing underneath. Huh, where did that emerge from? It was bewildering that since this morning, House had entered her thoughts more often than she liked. And worst of all was the circumstance that most of those thoughts were considerably inappropriate.

As Cuddy absently twirled a strand of hair round her finger she allowed herself to comprehend the extend of her actions. Would she have sex with him? Hell, he was attractive and of a magnificent built and nevertheless, Stacy had stuck up with him for five years. It couldn't have been that bad. She had always imagined him, always?, well, don't exaggerate, to be a great lover. What if he wasn't? Perhaps he had a small penis. Giggling marginally, she shook her head. Only one way to find out. Nothing would occur anyway. Whatever his reasons were, she could dance around him naked, he'd probably make a snide comment on the size off her ass and walk away. Come to think of it, yes, she wouldn't push him away and if it was only to find out he was horrible in bed. It was just too bad it was never going to happen.

On a Friday morning, if silence was an indicator for an upcoming storm, there would haven been nothing to indicate. As Cuddy mounted the steps to the main entrance she was already greeted by screaming and crying, coming not from one but from a whole group of children, stomping and bouncing through the clinic. Annoyed nurses were trying their hardest to calm them but as soon as they got one kid to calm down, another one got a new fit and had to be hushed and by the time that one was quiet, the other one was in tears again. Right next to the sliding doors, a tall man with a huge grin and a cane in one hand leaned on the wall, silently watching the mayhem. She stalked over to him and nudged his side harder than she had intended.

"What did you do???" He looked down at her, the smile still in his face, "I didn't do anything. It was already like that when I got here."

He was chuckling now, god this chaos was amusing him way too much.

"Are you seriously saying there is a bunch of little kids crying and terrified and you didn't pitch anything into this? What did you tell them? Did you threaten to give them shots?" –"No, I did none of these things", he said to her in a tone that was mildly patronizing, "I told you, I got here and they were already screeching." –"Then what is going on? Why are they here?" –"I have absolutely no idea." –"You didn't ask?" –"I thought, I'd enjoy the spectacle a little longer."

He turned his eyes back to the scene before him. Suddenly, Cuddy's head shot up to his face and then to her watch. She shook her head and scanned the room for the clock and then looked back at House.

"House, it's five past nine." –"How attentive of you. You know what that means, you're late." –"Yes, I am late because of a traffic jam but you know what else that means?", he didn't turn his face. "It means you are on time!" She stepped in front of him and blocked his view. "Why are you on time? There must be something decidedly wrong if you show up this early." –"Why would anything be wrong? Maybe I just wanted to be nice to you and come in early to do my job properly." –"For no money in the world!"

House sighed "Cuddy, Cuddy, you just don't know me at all, do you?" He voice became serious. "I want to talk to you." –"What is it now?" –"Not here. In your office." He winked secretevly at her. "Privately." With that he turned around and made his way hobbling in direction of her office. "Are you coming?" Confused, Cuddy revolved, then turned back to glance one last time at the bedlam that was currently the clinic and then followed the diagnostician.

He waited for her at the door to let her open and enter. He even held the door open for her which caught her slightly off-guard.

He plunged down onto her couch and made himself comfortable. She preferred to remain standing because usually this attire meant he wanted something big and possibly damaging the hospital so it was better to maintain the superior position.

"What is it House?" She stood before him and let him leer at her legs for a second before he gave her a look over and came to rest his eyes on hers.

"I've been thinking quite a bit. About yesterday and I started to wonder since when you developed a physical liking for me. And furthermore I have been thinking about what you said. And you are very wrong." Suddenly, he leaped to his feet, causing her to lose her footing if it wasn't for him to snag his arm around her waist and pull her flush against him.

"See, I don't hsun from human contact. I induce it even." –"Oh God, how wrong I was. Thank you House for clearing that up.", she replied dryly but kept still to see if he'd let her go again. He didn't and she felt her heart pounding a little faster in her chest. Wait a second, that wasn't her heart. She dared look into his eyes and saw the same level of dialation she had already encountered yesterday. She smiled slyly. He was catching on to this game pretty well.

"So what conclusion have you come to?" He blinked, currently distracted by two small hands reaching around his middle and settling at the base of his spine. "My conclusion is _Yes_." –" You been thinking that much and all you come up with is _yes_?" –"Yes", he tightened his hold just a tad by sliding his other arm around her as well. He bent his head to reach her ear with his mouth. He couldn't help but close his lips on the lobe quickly before he spoke.

"I want to do you."

A sharp breath caught in her throat and she held it. Now it was definitely her heart which was racing. She exhaled slowly and her eyes fluttered close as his breath tickled her neck. She took another breath and tilted her head to his ear. "And what do you intent to do now you've had this revelation?" He nuzzled her neck softly. Man, he definitely liked the way she smelled, like warm air and flowers, maybe a little cinnamon. Her hands traveled lower and slid beneath his shirt. He hmmmed appreciatively when his skin made contact with her fingers. He dragged his head back from her neck and as he came to rest his nose against hers he smiled against her soft lips.

"I intent to do you."

His hands came back from her waist, holding her at her side and his thumbs were just lightly brushing the curve of her breasts.

Cuddy felt light-headed and she enjoyed the feeling. For all his rough exterior he was quite the seducer. She caught his lower lip with hers and softly grazed her teeth along. "Good", she whispered. There was nothing she wanted more that moment than to push him back onto the couch, straddle him and rub herself against his wonderful chest.

With a start she comprehended this thought and settled instead for kissing him. With her lips, she pried his mouth open and carefully pushed her tongue inside. It was met with another 'hmmmm' and his tongue, stroking hers immediately. She pressed herself closer against him and her head started to swirl just as House's tongue did in her mouth. That man was one hell of a kisser! As she felt his hands starting to hike up her blouse she backed away though. This was, as much as she might like it, neither the time nor the place to take this any further. She noticed his ragged breathing and had to blink once or twice to clear her view again. His eyes were still slightly dazed and she decided then and there that she liked this look on him immensely. "So this is cleared up then", she said after she had cleared her throat slightly, "it just leaves the when and where."

Her hands were still slowly stroking his back and House just wanted to plant his lips back onto hers but just then her hands retreated and his back was left with slight goose bumps where she had touched him. "I'd say you pop by my place tonight. No use in planning and preparing greatly. We won't need much anyway." His voice was hoarse but he smiled smugly and finally managed to step out of her scent again.

She rearranged her blouse and grinned at him. "I'll be there." With that she went to her desk and set to unpacking her bag and sorting through papers. He readjusted his own shirt and left her to her work.

It wasn't until he reached the elevator and pressed the button to his floor that everything began to sink in. While there still was a sort of pleasant rumbling in his belly, he thought he heard something go 'click' in his brain. A feeling resembling panic spread.

He'd done it, he really had. Unfortunately, in his head the whole things had commenced differently. She wasn't supposed to agree. It was just a game and he wanted to get back at her. Instead, he'd invited her over for sex! In a couple of hours! How had that happened? He tried to recollect the last ten or so minutes. He'd led her into her office to lure her into thinking he wanted to have sex with her. To prove that he wasn't afraid of interaction, let alone her. He had planned on her jumping back at his declaration and if not then, at last when he told her he wanted her. The stupid thing was, she hadn't reacted the way she was supposed to be. Instead she had teased him with her little, smooth hands, she had smelled like cinnamon and flowers and he pricked his urge to touch her. Then he remembered that she had kissed him and it was all a sort of hazy pre-coital bliss from then. Nope, that was not the appropriate execution of his scheme. Now, she was coming over to his place. Looking for sex! He still had a tiny shred of hope left that she'd still pull back but somehow he couldn't quite believe it. She liked sex, she'd said that. His breathing was heavier when he exited the elevator than when he had entered. He still wasn't scared of her, no way sir, what scared and, quite frankly, surprised him immensely was how much he had liked kissing her. If he was verging on his self control simply kissing her than what would happen if she actually started undressing him? He had to find a way and fast. He counted, he had about 10 hours time, a little less maybe.

He wasn't self-conscious or anything, he also wasn't scared of her, he told himself, definitely not, he was just a little afraid of losing control. It was nothing big. He just didn't like it, that was all. Perhaps, if he repeated that in his head over and over again, he might actually start to believe it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Beware of the Smuuuut!**

**Here it is!**

**It's smut-time!!!! Don't like? Don't read! Do like? Do read! Afterwards, form opinion and review!**

**That's how it works. Tell me what to do or rather, what to let those two do…**

For House, the rest of the day just flew by. He brushed off Cameron's concern about his being absent minded, he pretended to treat three patients in clinic by telling them that faith could move mountains and generated self-healing and he made three cross word puzzles even though he wasn't so sure afterwards if he got it right.

'Greek sculpture, symbolizing the ideal of feminine beauty', diagonally; five letters, erm c-u-d-d-y?

In the end, he almost forgot to leave early like he used to which earned him confused looks but he was too busy remembering if he still had clean sheets and where he put them. Not that he was planning on using them, Cuddy would never take it that far, she'd say something nice and adult, probably having to do with the fact that she was his superior and he an obnoxious bunghole, he'd make an insulting comment and tell her that she was a coward as she left his apartment and everything would be back to normal by Monday. By the time he got home and was sipping on his first beer, he was completely calm and relaxed. The knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.

He opened the door and let her in, her gaze wandering around the room before she took off her coat and made herself at home on his couch. She had left the suit jacket and was clad in a simple white blouse with too few buttons done up and a dangerously tight black skirt, ending just short of her knee.

She looked at him expectantly.

"Are you just gonna stand around there or are you gonna offer me a drink?" –"What would you like?" She pointed to the bottle on the table. "One of those.", she said and gave him a small smile. "House, are you nervous?" Oh, come on, why on earth would he be nervous? He just wanted, well, what did he want exactly? He sighed deeply and came a couple of hobbles closer.

"Why are you here, Cuddy?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you serious? You asked me."

He walked over to the baby grand, leaning against it. First, it gave his leg a rest as he was without a cane and secondly it made him feel like he had everything under control with the hard, wooden instrument in his back. "Yes, I am serious." His voice was deep and seemingly calm. He tried to make sense of it all and maybe find a way out. Cuddy got up and made her way into the small kitchen. She opened the fridge and got herself a beer. If he wasn't going to get her one, she'd do it herself, she could use a little alcohol. Nevertheless, this was one of the strangest situations she'd ever been in. As she came back, his gaze was questioning.

"Ok, so I'll admit that you were right", he started, throwing his hands in the air, exaggeratedly, "I am afraid of human contact. This is just a weird game and now we'll both be grown up and stop." She took a rather large sip of her beer and walked slowly over to him. She put the beer down on her way and stopped inches away from him. "House, who said, this was a game?" He could feel her inguinal touching his pelvis and she leaned her upper body back slightly to give him a better view of her chest. Had she opened another button on this blouse? For all he willed himself not to, his eyes zoomed in on the top of her cream coloured breasts, wonderfully close and inviting. He found her eyes fixed on his and a sly smile on her delicious lips. Where she touched him his skin grew incredibly warm and he knew that warming up was just the beginning. He swallowed hard.

"Ok", he began anew in a hoarser voice, " I am a bad lover. I have an ugly scar I don't even like to look at myself and it hinders me to perform like I want to. Are you happy now?" he was almost angry her grin didn't fade. Ok, now he was nervous. Her hands came up to glide over his chest, up to his shoulders. She leaned in and her fingers made their way up his throat to graze his skull. "I don't care", she whispered before she took his mouth over again. He responded automatically and her hands gripped his head to tilt him closer and keep him there. His tongue was begging for entrance within seconds and her lips granted it.

There it was again. That wonderful scent of hers, these gorgeous lips and that wicked tongue, working his over again and again. He scarcely grasped that his hands had come up around her, as she was pressing him into the piano. This time, when he tried to get underneath her blouse she didn't stop him. Her own hands traveled to the collar of his shirt and further, lightly massaging his shoulders and neck. He liked it. He liked it a lot. The rational parts of his brain were shutting down one after another and a different sensation took over. He wanted to devour her. Rip off her clothes and feel her skin against his, everywhere. He wanted to be devoured by her. His last shred of logic dissolved when he slid his hands underneath her blouse to the front and up to feel the fabric of her bra and she moaned into his mouth.

Again, he thought he heard some clicking sound in his head but this time it wasn't followed by panic. It was followed by lust.

He didn't know how they made it into his bedroom without breaking their kiss but he was dimly aware of a couple of objects in the way, a table, the odd wall. He just hoped he hadn't bumped Cuddy into too many things but she was oblivious too anything but him.

He was groping her breasts while attempting to lower them carefully onto the bed but tripped and knocked the air out of her lungs as he toppled onto her.

"Sorry", he murmured and looked to make sure she wasn't hurt. Cuddy just shook her head. "Don't be."

She clawed his shirt on his back and pulled it up. He twisted to get it off and the second he had done so, her hands were on his chest, softly exploring his thorax, her eyes following her hands, worrying her lower lip. He wasted no time in returning the favour, almost tearing off the buttons as he went along. She helped him wrestle the shirt off, followed by her bra which was flung out of sight and the second he was confronted with her exquisite chest, his mouth and tongue went on a expedition of the newly revealed areas. She cried out as his lips attacked one nipple, lapping and swirling his tongue around it, too soon leaving it standing proud and moist and she groaned in frustration only to have the groan converting into a moan as he went to work on the other teat. She gripped his head to keep him exactly where he was and gasped, when his fingers found the bust currently not under attack of his mouth. He stroked the nipple lightly and her mind started reeling. Unconsciously she began grinding her hips against his to enhance the pressure, as she felt the bulge in his jeans, causing him to groan around her breast, the sound rippling right through her and pooling in a hot ache between her thighs. She reached blindly for his belt buckle, opening it with a nearly desperate speed Cuddy herself didn't know she possessed. She popped open the button and yanked the zipper down, heat greeting her hand as his cock strained to be freed, heightening her excitement. House finally lifted his face from her chest to accompany her in divesting him of his pants. As he pushed his jeans down his legs she used the momentary break to loosen her skirt and shimmy out of it, somehow taking her stocking down with it. With a soft thump, House maneuvered himself back above her and claimed her lips again. Kissing her was, as he decided then, his new preferred past time. She tasted like she smelled, like flowers and air, hot but still soothing those oh-so-soft lips battling his with an astounding strength. He was groaning quietly, his cock straining, burning to be inside her. With a deep moan she slid her left leg along his right, coming to rest on his hip. His boxer clad erection was pressing against her wet core as he was dry humping her, his hands trying to reach everywhere at once, never ceasing, never getting enough.

He needed more and he needed closer, feeling blindly for the drawer he knew was somewhere on his left, lifting himself away from her delicious warmth momentarily. He found it by some means, jerking it open and groping for condoms he was sure he had stashed there. Cuddy looked at what he was doing and decided to mirror his earlier actions, latching onto one of his exposed nipples, biting lightly and soothing quickly. House was panting like he'd run a marathon, her activity making it hard to concentrate but he found what he'd been searching for and triumphantly held up a square plastic wrapper, instantly tearing it open with his teeth, only to have it snatched away by a small hand. Her smile was practically evil as she allowed herself to push down his boxers and wrap her hand around his thick shaft. No, he had by no means a small penis and it was pulsating and throbbing in her hand. She slowly started stroking, up and down, his eyes closing and his mouth opening to give way for a deep, raw growl, blazing pleasure shooting through his groin. He bucked into her hand and she applied a little more pressure, tightening her hand but refusing to up the tempo of her strokes. House moaned helplessly at her delightful assault, his head came down to press into her neck, in a haze, tensing the muscles in his arms, forcing himself to focus enough to speak.

"Stop. Please." His hips didn't comply though and kept on bucking into her hand, against her mons. He took a shuddering breath.

"Too much. Too soon", he panted out.

She eased the pressure of her hand, caressing his cock, thumbing the head to gather the first few droplet of moisture gathered there and sucking on his collar bone lightly. He tasted like salt and bliss, lifting his head to stare into her eyes. There was no azure left, just the black of his pupils, sweat was beginning to trickle down his temples, his breath was hot o her skin and he looked entirely defenseless. Cuddy rolled the condom over his raging cock, her eyes never leaving his, she wanted to fix this face to her memory, open, drugged with pleasure and exceedingly sexy. She kissed him, shyly at first, deepening the kiss soon and felt him clasp her panties, pulling them down with shivering hands. His fingers came back up her thighs, meddling over her core, parting her folds to circle her clit. She was wet, aching for him, his touch enticing, so firm to almost bring her off but at the same time not firm enough. Her head fell back and he had her moaning and gasping instantly. She tugged him over her, spreading her thighs wider for him ready to take him in, impetuous to have him fill her. He complied happily, rubbing the head of his cock along her center, focusing on her moans and the way she arched towards him urgently. He bent down to kiss her, lifting her leg an inch, spreading it further and eased into her slowly.

At least, that was the plan but it didn't work out due to her gripping his ass tightly and shoving him into her roughly. It was a shocking sensation.

"Yessss", he hissed.

He stilled to give her a second to accommodate to him, he rearranged his own position, angling his right leg to take some weight off it and giving himself more leverage. He twisted his hips and she bend her head back and cried out; this terminated the time of tenderness, she rolled her hips, pressed him into her and he started thrusting into her, he was not going to last long and he intended to make the most of it. He wasn't heedful anymore, he was thrusting harder and with mounting speed. Every breath Cuddy took came out as a moan, his cock pushing hard and deep and oh, so good, driving her higher with each passing second. His thrusts still grew harder every time his hips slammed into hers.

She was hot and tight around him, like liquid silk, clenching and milking him for all it was worth. She gripped his head tightly and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him hard, biting his lip. His hands flattened on her back, arching her closer to him, crushing her against his body. He wanted her to go over the edge as hard as he was about to and have her feel the same tingling he did. There was nothing but her and him, frantic movements, his head was filled with moans and screams, waiting to break free, his nose was filled with her scent, sweet and tangy. His chest was rubbing against hers, he wasn't kissing anymore, he was biting her neck and collar bone, his hands clawing the sheets above her head as hers were scraping his back. She was screaming, squeezing her eyes shut as she went tumbling over the edge into an mind-numbing orgasm, clenching her muscles violently around him, causing him to follow her closely. He thrust once more, twice more, his vocal chords finally giving out, his breath abandoning him briefly, gasping for air. He trembled powerfully and uncontrollably, the motion merging into her smaller form underneath.

He didn't know how long it took him to come back down to earth, he first felt her shift underneath him, then her hands at his sides stroking lovingly, her tongue becalming his puffy lips and it took him all of his willpower to open his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were soft, nearly perplexed but she smiled at him and he returned it, kissing her softly, her lips swollen and red, her tongue stroking his lazily.

He didn't want to move. This moment, he felt completely peaceful and he didn't want it to end, even though he knew it had to. With a soft groan, he rolled off her, easing himself down next to her, his body reluctant to move. To get it over with, he sat up, testing his legs carefully on the floor and hobbled clumsily into the bathroom.

When he came back, Cuddy had crawled under the comforter, he slid in next to her and she settled against him. "Thank you", she whispered and kissed him again. He settled alongside her wonderfully warm and soft body, continuing to kiss her. He loved kissing her; there could never be enough kissing. Sometime during the cozy post coital make out and the delicate kissing, he fell asleep, feeling pleasant and satisfied.

**So? What do you think?**

**Please tell me, if you'd like to read more. I have a couple of more ideas up my sleeve if you're interested.**

**And more sex. **

**I promise!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry to let you wait so long for an update but wouldn't let me! **

**So here we are with the fifth installation. I hope you'll enjoy it. There's a slight Cam bashing in there, sorry, but she's been annoying the HELL out of me for the last couple of weeks. **

**Take that, Cameron!!!!!**

The aftermath lasted for about a week.

A week in which House's mood was light, his manner tame, bordering on friendly. He 'd spend the next day with a severe burning sensation in his thigh, unquestionably from strain of his muscles but he hardly cared. He had been woken up to it by a shuffling sound which came from Cuddy, in effort to find all of her clothing. The grey morning skies gave only a dim light.

"What are you doing?", he asked. He knew it was an idiotic question but it was too early to activate his brain to formulate logic sentences.

"I'm getting dressed." –"Why?" –"I got to get going." –"Not for my part." –"I bet, but unlike you, I tend to be at work on time. The work hours in my contract are effectual, not estimations."

He tried to apprehend what time it was but the digits on the alarm clock blurred before his eyes. He thought he recognised a seven and no matter in which position in the whole figure the number occurred, it would be too early. He couldn't be bothered.

He pulled the comforter back up to his chin, puffed his pillow a little and mumbled: "I might be late this morning. Could you do me a favour and tell my boss I had…", he smiled softly, "a late night consult that took up most of my stamina." –"I'll see you in two hours", she said before she left, even though she knew it would be totally useless. She thought about kissing him good-bye but decided against it, assuming that he'd probably drag her back into bed, somewhat fearing that she'd be the one to brush off her work ethics and get back into his strong arms. Better not overexert her willpower.

Unfortunately the mounting pain in his leg wouldn't leave House to sleep a little longer so he had to get up in search for his beloved orange bottle. Nevertheless, he still sported a sort of stupid grin on his face, of course only as long as he was alone, the minute he left his apartment, about 40 minutes after nine, he went back to his usual sour expression.

It didn't abide, though.

He tried to remember, to relive the encounter, to the pictures in his head and to the touch of his own hand but it was never more than a couple of sticky paper towels and a cold feeling in his limbs, which never really ceased after he wrapped himself up in the comforter. After three days it started getting to him. He was unsatisfied and discontented and he blamed this mostly on Cuddy. Who else would be responsible? She had taken him by surprise and seduced him and now she was sauntering around before his eyes constantly, wiggling her wonderful, appetizing ass and smiling and chuckling around everyone in sight.

He kept in the shadows, habitually hiding behind a pillar or a corner, watching her secretly, otherwise avoiding direct contact.

One day. Two days.

She didn't seem disconcerted and that annoyed the hell out of him. Not that he felt any need to talk to her. She'd come to him, no doubt, wanting to discuss everything, play it down to one night of mindless passion and for some reason, he wasn't ready to have that just yet.

The first to fall victim to his irritation was Cameron. Misleadingly, she interpreted his disgruntlement as boredom due to the lack of real cases, so she started digging for strange symptoms in patients with ordinary ailments. Not just was she wasting his time and brilliance with banality but she disrupted his task of clandestinely stalking Cuddy through her hospital, monitoring who she was talking to and how.

It wasn't because he was jealous. Or possessive. Or longing. He just wanted to see if she was craving to have him again as much as he was craving her.

He only evaded admitting it to himself.

He was sitting in chair, the blinds to the break room precautionarily drawn, to evince that he did not want to be disturbed. Foreman and Chase had been abiding his implied request, the only sound left were the constant dull thuds of his cane on the floor. Erroneously, Cameron either didn't notice his wish for solitude or, she simply ignored it. He conjectured the latter and that, even worse, she felt the irritating need to deliver him from his brooding. She burst into his office without even knocking, with a radiant smile, instantly changing to that kind expression she liked to use on dying patients or children.

"Dr. House, I think I have found you an interesting case. Well, three, actually. Here's a really abnormal rash, a 40 year old woman with atypical blood count and a couple who returned from Asia last week, both with erratic heartbeats and fever. If you could look through these files you might…" She kept on rambling it was gibberish to him, he gave her a stern look but that didn't stop her.

"House?"

Oh, she stopped talking?

"Are you gonna look through those?"

She offered him a hopeful smile which only elevated his burgeoning anger. Worse, she even continued her rambling with her moronic compassion, asking him if he had slept all right and he looked tired and…

"GET LOST!"

He didn't meant to yell, well, not that loud anyway but the termination of movement, the aghast expression and the panicked look in her eyes told him that he'd maybe overdone it a tad. The next second, the door to his right was opened and Chase barged in with much the same facial expression as Cameron.

"I…I..I just…", she stammered

"Yeah, you always just and you never know when to just not. I don't care for your cases, I don't care for couples who popped funky little pills in Indonesia that consist of chemicals illicit in most countries and I don't care for your observations of my sleeping habits! Go, get out of here, join the salvation army, read stories to cancer kids, go screw Chase in the morgue for all I care, just LEAVE!"

Without any further word, she whirled around and stomped out of the door. Chase gazed after her, then turned back to his employer and shook his head.

"Was that necessary?" –"Apparently." –"Just because you're in a bad mood, you don't have to take it out on us!" –"I thought, that's why I hired you?"

House twisted his face up and then went back to thud his cane onto the carpet.

"Go on", he said, without looking up, "go comfort her, give her a good cuddle and a lollypop. Or, whatever you call that in your country."

He only lifted his gaze after he heard the door clanked shut. Now he was pissed. Reaching for his pills, he thought about downing them with a couple of fingers of whiskey to heighten the effect and get him through the day, realising that there were only three left. He'd been popping more Vicodin than usual in the last days. Well, of course he had, his leg hurt, thanks to Cuddy, he needed to get a new prescription. The ringing of his phone brought him out of his thoughts. He picked up absent minded and mumbled something resembling his name. Every movement stopped when he was met by a familiar female voice.

"Are you sending your minions home?"

He had no idea what she meant.

"Huh?" _Wow, elaborate response!_

"Chase and Cameron. They left a second ago." –"So?" _Another adroit statement!_ There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Never mind. I have an assignment for you. There is a lecture on Tuesday. It's about new MRI techniques and the various fields it can be used in, interpreting the results in more formative ways. Now, Dr. Conelly, who was supposed to give the lecture has broken his cnemis in two places, rock-climbing last weekend. He's still in Montana and won't be released from hospital for at least another week."

She took a breath.

"You'll give the lecture."

He stared at the receiver disbelievingly for an instant.

"No." –"Yes." –"No, I won't." –"Oh yes, you will. You've been loitering around for weeks, earning money for doing nothing but stringing together coffee breaks. It's about time you started doing something." –"You know, I'm honestly sorry but I have, er, three new cases here and I cer…" –"House, this is not a suggestion. You have no cases, doing hallucinating drugs on one's Asian vacation is not a case! Get informed, prepare and shut up."

He was left with a 'click'. She had hung up.

Cuddy leaned back in her chair, pleased. It had been nice to hear his voice, she perceived she had missed it. She merely hoped he'd come down into her office soon, trying to wriggle his way out of the task and finally talk to her again. In person. It wasn't that she hadn't noticed him. At times she wondered if he truly was that naive when he was hiding and observing her. Did he really think she didn't know he was there, round the next corner, pressed into the wall? She had been quite disappointed when he had avoided her after that glorious night but she soon found out that he was dealing with it House-way. Weird, odd and as immature as possible, by stalking her. She smiled. Let's see what he'd try now and if he'd mention their night again. Maybe he was interested in another one. It had been a wonderful experience encountering another House, away from work, an actual attentive lover with soft lips and talented hands. She realised, after she started her car that morning that she liked that House. More specifically, she fancied the combination, the attitude he sported at work and the tenderness he bared in private.

Had she started to count to ten slowly when she hung up on him, she'd be done by now and could welcome the tapping of wood on glass, as he stood before her door, not waiting for her reply but entering.

His face was serious.

She simply smiled.

"That was quick! I thought you'd have lunch over it first."

He returned her smile but his adopted a sarcastic note.

"I'd laugh if you were funny. Look at me not laugh." –"Is this about the lecture?" –"Yes it is." –"You will give it." –"I will."

This left her with an open mouth: She'd been prepared for all sorts of excuses and bizarre arguments but this…

"Come again?"

She frowned. That smile was too lecherous to mean anything good.

"Oh, that was exactly my plan"

She raised her eyebrows.

"House, what are you talking about?"

He sat down in front of her desk, looking too pleased with himself, he had one of his brilliant ideas and was waiting to enhance the dramatic effect.

"I'll give the lecture. Under one condition." –"Which would be?" –"I want another night."

"I'm sorry?" –"I want another night. With you."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "No."

He mimicked her actions and crossed his arms as well.

"Oh yes." –"This is not a negotiation, House." –"It is now, Cuddy. Quid pro quo. Something for something."

"No", she repeated, slowly and distinctively.

She got up, shaking her head as she approached him. "No, House." Her voice left no doubt. He got up as well. This didn't go as planned. She rejected him. She didn't want him. He clenched his jaw and snorted. He took a step closer towards her to gauge her expression. He saw anger blazing in her eyes. The blue orbs darkened. He got angry, just angry. How dare she not want him?

"Well then, fuck the lecture and fuck you!" He turned around ready to leave but he looked back. "Or rather not fuck you."

Before he arrived at the door, she was at his side, grabbing his arm, forcing him around to face her.

"Is that what this is to you? An exchange of goods? You do something and get sex for it? I am paying with sex to make you do your job? What do you think am I, one of your hookers?"

Her voice became a hiss.

"You could have said anything. That you wanted another night because you liked it. Because you need to get your rocks off. Because you like sex. Because you made a bet with Wilson. But not like this! I am not a transaction!"

She opened the door and glared at him.

"Get out!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Have I put in any disclaimer? Gosh, no. Well, the usual.**

**Don't own them, wouldn't want them, any resemblance to reality is completely coincidental and unintended. Reality is overrated. Period.**

**You guys are the most wonderful reviewers. Keep going!**

**Someone ordered smut????????**

He stood behind the closed door, dumb-folded, and stared back into her office. She stalked round her desk for some time, then sat down, shifting through papers aimlessly. Why did he have to do that? _You can never trust House_, she thought, _never let him get too close_.

She'd expected him to say something stupid, make fun of everything but she had secretly hoped that he had perhaps a tiny bit of sympathy for her. He didn't, obviously. He was just a selfish bastard. He would use everything against her, to blackmail her or start rumours or worse. She didn't want to think about worse. She had a tight knot in her stomach and blinked, trying to get back to the work ahead. Her anger kept brooding though. She decided to make a list. A list of things to do to House and things to yell at House. Spontaneously, her first thought was 'kill him till he's dead'. She was a doctor, nobody would ever figure what finished him, she had a whole pharmacy of possibillities. No, wait, that was far too easy. She wanted him to suffer and to beg. Yes. She set back to work. Silently, she felt crushed.

The crusher felt pretty crushed himself. He automatically went back to his office yet suddenly found himself on the roof. The clouds were reforming, undoubtedly to release a new rain-flood. He stared into the bleary firmament, to take deep breaths, and pondered her words. He'd had a concept when he went down to see her, it was supposed to lure her into his bed again, not make her angry. He didn't know why those words had left his mouth.

This day was really fucked. He wanted nothing more than to go home and drink himself into a stupor, trash a couple of glasses maybe and fall into an relaxing alcohol-painkiller slumber. Now, that was a plan. He hobbled back inside and into the elevator, jamming the button hard with his cane. No one accosted him on his way, his sour expression scaring most off and out of his way and Cameron already got her share, she wouldn't dare talking to him again. He packed his backpack hurriedly and limped into the late afternoon. It was about to start raining again when he reached his apartment, so he hopped inside quickly, slamming the door behind him, dropping his rucksack with a careless yank of his arm and went straight for the scotch. He downed his first glass without hesitation and the burning in his throat was a welcome distraction from his current burning in his chest and those annoying thoughts. They always returned to that moment, sitting in Cuddy's office, feeling confident and joyously anticipating the events to come, a little kissing in the office, a quick grope maybe and another evening filled with passion and moans and delicate skin, underneath his fingertips, his lips. Then, everything came crashing down. He knew, the second he saw her expression change, even before she uttered that annihilating 'No', he had lost.

He sat down on his couch to contemplate but he couldn't, he was fidgety, getting up again, pacing anxiously from one side of the living room to the other. He went into the kitchen and didn't know what to do there, he went back and was utterly clueless as to what to do with himself. He looked at the ¾ filled bottle, no feeling like drinking anymore. His thigh hurt like hell and he needed more Vicodin and he needed them fast. He went in search of his new prescription.

Cuddy had spent the rest of her day more or less successfully diverting her mind from House, finishing whatever had been left over the last couple of days, answering mails, writing memos and sorting through a pile of papers she found underneath some medical files and had forgotten they were even there. She pretty much managed to work herself into exhaustion by the time she left and kept her mind tracked on the idea of a nice and hot bath as soon as she got home. Only briefly her thoughts returned to House and the dragging disappointment she had felt when he'd demanded his pay for the lecture. With it came a strange tight feeling in her chest which was why she quickly concentrated on something, anything else. She reached her condo around eight accompanied by a new spate of rain and went straight for the bathroom, filling the tub while shedding her clothes and finally enjoying a soothing bath.

After changing into a satiny nightgown she was ready to call it a night, when a loud rapping on her door startled her. She faltered, for a second unsure if she should open but curiosity got the better of her and she went for the door. When she swung it open, she was greeted with a pitiable sight.

House had been pacing his apartment restlessly for hours but couldn't allay his agitation. A severe sexual frustration was making it harder to concentrate by the minute and the peculiar feeling to do something to make Cuddy like him were driving him mad. He craved being near her, hear her, feel her, …fuck her…, and have her around him but he didn't dare pursuing these ideas any further. He finally got back onto his bike and made his way over to her house. Even though it only took him about half a minute from where his bike was parked to her doorstep, he was properly soaked when he reached it. He knew he should have left the helmet on but it was fairly hard to walk through the darkness with constricted vision. Nevermind it looked utterly stupid. He counted to three before he knocked and braced himself to be yelled at, kicked in the groin of have a door smashed in his face. None of it happened.

When she opened the door, she saw a large, dripping frame, cane in one hand, helmet in the other. He looked almost forlorn, his shoulders hunched, raindrops trickling down his face from his hair and from his jacket. She took his appearance in for a moment, unsure of what to do and finally sighed, exhausted.

"What do you want now?"

He shuffled his feet and his eyes travelled beyond her into her home. It looked nice and warm, cozy and she looked as if she had come right out of bed a soft white gown was adorning her petite form and she was already rubbing her arms from the cold he had brought with him. Compulsorily, his eyes dropped to her chest to see if her nipples hardened in the cold breeze and a pang of heat coursed through him at the picture.

He cleared his throat.

"Can I come in?" –"Why?" –"Because?" –"House, don't you think it's enough for one day?" She sighed, "just say what you want to and leave." –"You really gonna let me stand outside in this weather?" –"Strongly considering it", Cuddy said, cocking her head to the side.

He looked down, uncertain how to continue and tried to find an answer in her eyes. There was none. He cleared his throat again, trying to erase the lump which was suddenly making it hard to speak clearly.

"I ..I …What I wanted to say was I want another night because…" She looked at him expectantly.

"Because I like the way you make me feel."

He had mumbled the last few words and she had to strain her ears to catch what he had said but for once, his face was sincere and was almost too shy to look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry?", she replied, "I didn't quite get that."

Of course she had heard him but somehow she felt the urge to press him to say it again. It wasn't very often that the great Gregory House was forced to say something sincere and honest and she palnned to make it last.

He sighed. "Because I, …I like the way you make me feel." He finally looked up into her eyes. "You happy now?" It was barely more than a whisper.

For a few seconds she considered her options. Playing hard to get and tell him that wasn't an excuse, scowling and pretending to be angry and, suddenly, the need to just jump him surged through her head. She took a long breath.

"And you couldn't just have said that earlier today? What do you want me to do?" She threw her arms up. "Oh, for Christ's sake, get inside, I'm freezing."

She pulled him into the hall and closed the door behind him but he hadn't moved any further.

"So?", she questioned. –"So what?" –"Why didn't you say that this before?" –"I…, I don't know." For once, he really didn't.

She was standing closer now, he could feel the last shreds of heat leaving her body bit by bit and he just wanted to hug her and warm her up again, which was a useless task in his current state, wet and cold himself but he still took one step towards her, carefully laying his hands on her waist. She didn't flinch.

A small smile tugged her lips and she tiptoed and lifted her head up to softly brush his lips with hers.

"You are an obnoxious ass, I'd like to make that clear." He sank against her and smiled.

"I take pride in it. It's part of my special charm." –"Honestly, it's rather sad you say that."

A first kiss was tentative and moist, little raindrops ran down his face and he tasted wonderful, like House and rain and affection. She stepped back way too soon and pointed a finger at his stomach.

"Stay there. And take your clothes off."

With that she vanished into another room.

"Already? Anxious, are we?", he called after her. He was smiling, not sure why but he couldn't stop either. Somehow the lump in his throat had vanished. She returned with a towel in her hand.

"I just don't want you dripping all over my floor and carpet, that's all."

He complied, took off his jacket, dropped his helmet onto the floor and toed off his sneakers while she began to tenderly dry his hair. He bowed down to give her easier access and himself a beautiful view down her gown at her creamy breasts.

He grinned.

"Hello again."

His fingers itched to touch and he allowed them to wander up her waist and to her front, slowly brushing her breasts through the satin. The gown was damp where he had pressed against her and now he could see those glorious nipples, dark against the fabric and calling for him. She murmured appreciatively and lifted his head to steal another kiss from him. They stood pressed together in the hall for what seemed like ages. It had to be ages because House's leg made itself known with a stinging pain and had him wincing. Cuddy frowned in concern and gently led him to her bedroom. He swallowed another pill on his way. She sat him down on her bed to lift his shirt over his head, House silently complying before she began working on his buckle and zipper, pushing his pants down and out of the way.

She straddled him carefully, keeping her weight of his thigh and yelped when he fell back and brought her down with him. They shifted into a more comfortable position and Cuddy made quick work of her night gown, leaving her only in her gauzy panties. She hovered above him and ran her hands over his pecs, followed the path with her lips, the light hairs tickling her nose. She moved over his left nipple, grazing the bud lightly, erecting the hairs at the back of his neck at the sensual assault. Tongue and teeth came next, applying more pressure, biting lightly. His fingers found their way into her hair, tangling themselves in her ebony curls. She switched to the right pectoral, leaving the other one shivering in the cool air. His breathing became ragged as she descended further, lapping at his ribs, dipping her tongue into his navel, her breasts brushing his erection, her hands dragging down his boxers on her way. She licked along his hipbone, her fingers leading the path down his left thigh. He lay supine, enjoying her delicious torture, momentarily stiffening as she ascended again up his right thigh, coming into contact with his ruined flesh. His first instinct was to pull her away from the scar but he was too late, she was already tracing her work with a feather light touch, unfazed by it, letting her tongue recover what she had taken, kissing the flesh, completely discarding his underwear. Her hands cupped his balls and massaged them gently, enticing groans of pleasure from him. His cock was standing proud, begging to be touched and she was no one to disappoint. She wrapped her hand around the shaft firmly, gliding up and down, his hips raising in an opposite rhythm. He fisted the pillow when her tongue licked along the underside of his length, her mouth enclosing the head and sucking with a startling pressure. He cried out and thrust up hard, her hands holding him down, letting her have her way.

"God, yes,… please….more"

Incoherent words were falling from his mouth. His breathing was coming out in low moans, he looked up and saw her, gazing straight into his eyes, his cock between her lips, sucking her cheeks in, releasing him only to swirl her tongue around the head lazily. It was probably the most erotic thing he'd ever seen in his live. He tugged her back up to plunder her mouth. Her panties fell victim to his urgent hands, simply ripping them apart. He spread his his left hand over her divine ass, his middle finger sliding down her crack and in between her folds. She moaned deeply and gasped as one finger entered her easily. His right hand was busy kneading her breast, angling it to his mouth and latching onto it. Cuddy groaned, desperately grinding back against his finger and at the same time pushing her chest harder into his face. She was racing towards climax and she tried to hold back, unable to stop moving. His mouth left her nipple to be replaced by his right hand.

His voice was a harsh whisper in her ear.

"Let it go Lisa. Come for me."

It was all the encouragement she needed to release a guttural growl and fall into oblivion. Her arms, spread on each side of his torso buckled and she crashed onto him, whimpering while she tried to remember how to breathe. She lifted her head to look at his face. His eyes were dark and shining.

"Gorgeous", he murmured.

She smiled at him and shifted, his finger sliding from her center. He groaned discontented but she silenced him quickly by sitting up, bracing herself on his chest. He didn't even notice her quick move sideways, there was a condom in her hand suddenly, coating his cock the next second. She looked down at his cock, his gaze following hers as she impaled herself on him in one swift downward move. He groaned again, louder this time, her heat engulfing him, squeezing him. She didn't wait to accommodate to his size but started moving immediately, grinding down on him hard and deep.

His mind had narrowed to the most basic urges, grip her hips and surge up into her, flipping her over and pound into her hard and fast but neither of those possillities promised to last very long. He was verging on his control and helpless to whatever she had in mind.

His hands tried to steady her but she didn't stop, rotating her hips, pushing down onto him faster. It was like one of his favourite dreams, her perched above him, head bend back, her mouth open and moaning, riding him into oblivion, her hands caressing herself, rolling her nipples between her fingers, lost in ecstasy, she was the most beautiful sight. She was driving him insane and fast, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, crushing her body to his taking over her mouth frantically. He gripped her hips tighter, pushing her against him erratically, his release seconds away. They were moving against each other in a mind blowing intensity, she was gripping his shoulder, digging her nails into them, driving him higher. Her clit rubbed against his pubic hair and she felt herself coming again, more violently this time. She groaned at a rising tone.

"Oh,…ah,… god,…GREG!" The last boost he needed was his name on her lips and he crashed, gripping her bruisingly hard, crying out as hot, bright colours shot from his cock down his legs into his toes and up his head into every last of his brain cells.

He found himself back in consciousness, he didn't know how much later. He was surrounded by a cozy fuzziness, like a bubble. There were hands, touching him, touching his now soft cock, wiping him off quickly and accurately, then disappearing, to be replaced by a complete, tiny body, blanketing his with warmth and affection. A soft mouth nuzzled the hollow of his throat and there were fingers again, splaying over his pectoral, drawing lazy circles on his skin. He hummed contentedly and kept his eyes closed, giving over to the sensations.

A whisper. "Greg?"

There it was again, his name. The edges of his mouth went up on their own accord, smiling, he wasn't sure what felt so good about it but his name from her lips ran over his skin, sinking into it deeply and triggering a feeling in his chest that he was shocked to notice and reluctant to place yet, let alone name it. His arms went around the body, holding it to him, his nose inhaled the scent coming from the curls touching the left side of his face, shampoo, sweat, sweetness. The hair moved, she lifted her head to his face and he opened his eyes to a sea of aquamarine.

"House?"

He shook his head. Cuddy raised her eyebrows at that and stroked his jaw.

"No?" He shook his head again. "What exactly 'No'?" –"Name", he whispered hoarsely. She looked bewildered.

"My name", he repeated. It seemed awfully hard to talk, he'd much more enjoy staying in this cocoon of cuddling and caressing. And he wanted to hear his name.

"You don't remember your name? Gee, I know I'm good but I doubt I'm that good." She gave him a bright smile and he couldn't do anything else but kiss her, feel the smile against his lips and take it in. He decided he needed to kiss her a lot more. He broke the kiss and started speaking nevertheless.

"You said my name. Twice." –"I say your name pretty often. Almost everyday, to be exact. You just normally don't listen, I guess."

"You said my first name."

She was quiet at that, not sure whether he was implying he didn't like his first name, it was, as a matter of fact, rarely used. He wiped out her concern.

"I like it."

She put her head back in its original position in the nape of his neck and continued her ministrations on his chest. For the time being that was all she wanted and he needed. There is a time to talk and a time to simply enjoy. Now was definitely the latter.

House woke up and felt strange. There was this weird cloth covering him, had he fallen asleep in his clothes? And somehow the ceiling didn't match either he noticed as he opened his eyes. A second passed. And another one before his mind caught onto the fact that this wasn't his bedroom. Nor his bed, obviously. What caught his eye next was a shuffling beside the bed.

Cuddy entered the room, clad in a grey robe, stuffing clothes into her drawer. She seemed awfully busy for this time of morning.

"Why are you all up and about?"

She winced at his voice and turned around.

"Christ, House, don't do that. Why are you awake anyway? I thought you inner clock didn't go off before 10?" –"It's confused due to the unfamiliar surroundings. Again, why are you up?"

She walked over to the bed and eyed him carefully. He looked almost cute, slightly crumpled face, tousled bedhead and temptingly warm skin.

"It's quarter past nine. I have things to do." –"What things?" –"Well, things, laundry, cleaning, just things." –"But I wanted another night."

She rolled her eyes.

"Did you hear me when I said it was past nine? Like nine in the morning?" –"Yes, I did hear you but, you know what is an indicator of daybreak? People generally call it sunrise. Now take a look outside."

She followed his gaze out the window. Like the day before the sky was dull with clouds which allowed not the smallest ray of sunlight through. He took her temporary distraction to grab her wait and tug her successfully down into bed and onto him.

She willingly let him open her robe and slide his hands inside, sighing at the warmth of his fingers and the way he seemed to unconscious know where she liked to be touched.

"So, technically it is still night", he said with a mischievous smile, "and it will be as long as the sun doesn't rise."

It was a very cloudy Saturday.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter kind of agitated me because it didn't go in the direction I wanted, mainly because I had no idea which direction it was.**

**Call it an intermission, if you like.**

**Has anyone ever noticed how ridiculously long those elevator scenes seem to be? Mine is no exception, really. As long as House's office is not on the 23****rd**** floor, that elevator is **_**very **_**slow. **

It was almost awkward. He was at a loss of what to say or to do. He'd tried to leave secretly when she was asleep but he saw her open her eyes and gaze at him when he crept out the room.

He'd never been good at relationship talk or any sort of talk at that, except when it had medical content. Or insults. He could insult people for hours. But he didn't want to insult Cuddy, well, a little perhaps, just for the fun of it, neither did he want to talk about medical things with her. Ok, anatomical possibilities maybe but not here but in the privacy of his own bed. Or hers. Her bed was really nice, with dozens of pillows and soft comforters. _God, man stop rambling!_

He willed that annoying voice in his head to shut up an focus on the problems at hand. Yes, at hand indeed. Again he had spent a whole ten days trying to recreate scenes from that weekend in his imagination but it was no use. He'd been wanking off desperately, picturing Cuddy above him, lost in ecstasy and calling his name, it still made him come hard and merciless but it was still cold afterwards and that made him curl up and seek out sleep to escape to his dreaming of her.

He had been dreaming of her quite a bit, her next to him, laughing at him, touching him. The first few times he tried to block out her face, replace it with Angelina or Halle but it never lasted long. Sometime around Tuesday he gave up.

He sat in his chair in his office, bored and grumpy. _More like hot and bothered…_ He 'd sent out his team to do his clinic duty and the most fascinating thing was that they too were so bored by the ongoing absence of any cases that they'd taken his offer with a smile. Well, Cameron and Foreman at least but it might have had something to do with the fact that he'd sent them to clinic and Chase out to get a decent cup of coffee, accompanied by a comment about everybody doing what they were best at but he didn't remember clearly. He'd been entirely distracted by a particular small female person walking by his office that moment, deeply involved in conversation with another, bigger male person he'd never seen before in his life and wasn't keen on seeing again. Why was she always surrounded by men? And why didn't she even spare a glance in his direction, she must have known he was there.

It quirked him that she wasn't giving him any attention. Not that he was doing anything of the sort to her but he wanted her to come to him. He wanted to feel at least a little in control and not like some horny teenager, lusting after his boss and secretly wanking off to thoughts of her and craving her body again. He had thought about just going to her and asking for sex but that hadn't gone too well the last time and he didn't want to tell her how much he needed her.

_This, you mean, not her_. _Sex, of course._ Whatever. Here goes the voice again. _Thank god for Chase._ _Wait, for Chase?_

"Here's your coffee. And I would like to make it absolutely clear that this is **not** in my job description."

Chase was standing next to him, putting a paper cup with steaming contents down onto the desk. Sometimes, that accent was almost cute. And the hair, of course. Now he just had to get some decent clothes and sing 'We'll go a-wassailing' and he could almost be some guy from a Jane Austen novel.

"Crikey", House said, believing it was a way of thanking for coffee at the other end of the world.

Cuddy was tapping her fingers on her desk. She wasn't so much nervous as more seized with an anxiety which had started late Monday morning and hadn't quite vanished since. A voice in her head told her that this was absolutely normal, as far as normal went when it came to having sex with House. _What did you expect? That he'd come running to you, declaring his never ending love? Get a grip, woman!_

Still, it was strange. He hadn't avoided her like the first time but acted like he always did, pissing off personnel, leaving early and generally not doing what he was supposed to.

She had been called into clinic on Wednesday because exam room 2 had been occupied for nearly an hour. Nurse McLoghin had only just joined the clinic nurses two month ago, she didn't know how things with a certain diagnostician worked and as a result was slightly intimidated by him. That's why she didn't dare barge into the exam room. Cuddy did. She was informed immediately that House was very busy with an absent patient named Lohan. He had spend a great deal diagnosing Miss Lohan with a personality disorder using a new national, apparently unknown to her, medical journal called InTouch. He was just about to start distinguishing the health of her acquaintances when Cuddy decided to intrude so rudely.

She silently took the magazine from him, whacked it over his head lightly and called nurse McLoghin to bring in a real patient. A small woman, around twenty, entered the room. Nurse McLoghin announced her as Miss Kerner.

"How are you, Miss Kerner?", Cuddy asked friendly. "See, House, this is Miss Kerner, she is sick, apparently." –"I have a fever." –"She has a fever." She spoke slowly, as if to a small child.

"Now, be nice, treat her and pretend you work here or I'll whip your sorry ass." She hadn't so much thought about that last comment but it came to her when she looked into House's eyes and saw the look in them. Hungry. Longing. Remembering. His voice was deep and smooth.

"Is that a promise?"

She felt herself blush and his grin widened. She turned quickly and rushed out of the room, whispering a very soft 'yes' which, hopefully, no one heard.

About two days later she found out that he was sending his team out to do his clinic duty. She was just on her way to his office to demand an explanation and thinking hard about a decent punishment when she all but ran into a young man, standing in the corridor, looking lost.

"Woah, sorry, I didn't see you there. I am completely standing in the way of everything" –"Nevermind, I'm sorry, too, I wasn't paying attention, Mr.?" –"Cleever. Paul Cleever" –"Mr. Cleever. Nice to meet you."

She extended her hand and he took it, smiling.

"Mr. Cleever, my name is Dr. Cuddy, I am in charge here, mostly. Can I help you somehow?" –"Actually, I have been looking for you." –"For me?" –"Yes, I'm here on behalf of my father. Martin Cleever."

She thought about the name. It didn't ring any bell.

"Martin Cleever?" –"Yes, Cleever pharmaceuticals?" –"Oh…"

She remembered dimly contacting that company a while ago, due to some stupid request House had made and she couldn't remember for the love of her. As no one ever returned her request, she'd put it to rest.

"I contacted your company about two months ago." –"I know, we have a new secretary now. The old one had a weird system of filing incoming calls. It wasn't her field, really." –"She took to another field of work, then?" Mr. Paul Cleever gave Cuddy an apologetic smile. "She married my father." Cuddy was momentarily astonished by that. "I'm sorry?", was all she managed, with a wry smile. He nodded. "Thanks."

She'd been walking along the corridor with Mr. Cleever, briefly seeing Dr. Chase marching towards the Head of Diagnostics office with a huge paper cup with a distinct Cup-A-Joe logo on it. She passed the office though, engrossed in her conversation. By the time they reached the elevator she had almost forgotten why she was on this floor anyway. She only remembered when she invited Mr. Cleever for a cup of coffee as a recompense for his futile appearance. Oh, yes. She had been planning on putting more things on her 'Things to yell at House'-list because he obviously made his doctors bring him coffee from a spot about four blocks from the hospital. Apparently, it wasn't enough to try and steal the brand new DeLonghi coffee and espresso maker from the cafeteria.

Cuddy pressed the button for the elevator turning to Mr. Cleever. He let her step into the cabin and made to follow her.

"I hope you are not too disappointed that we are no longer in need of your companies services but I couldn't think of any other area where we'd be needing anything of that sort." –"I don't mind. Hey, I got coffee out of it and lovely company as well. But if you ever needed anything, I shall give you my cell number, so you don't get stuck again…"

Before he could finish his sentence or step in next to her he was rather rudely pushed aside, stumbling over the foot of a cane, accidentally wedged between his feet. He glanced into a gruff face with a just as gruff voice.

"Oh, I'm so sorry but I'm in a hurry. There's a stairway to your right."

House nearly jumped into the elevator and pushed his cane against the button shutting the door. He turned to Cuddy, smiling brightly.

"Ground floor?" He pushed another button. There were flames in her eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? Just because you work in a hospital and have nothing better to do you now go round hurting people so they might get admitted?"

He looked a her, queerly.

"I haven't thought about that but now you mention it…" –"House!" The word came out louder than she'd intended but then again, she was enraged about his unbelievable behaviour. She had a right to yell. She thought quickly but currently couldn't find any cusses from her list. She tried to reason.

"Why did you push him?" –"Who's **he** anyway?" He was leaning against the wall. "He's assistant manager at Cleever pharma." She gazed at him. "Is that a name that's supposed to be known?" –"Cleever pharma. You wanted me to order about a ton of antidotes from them which no one needed?" –"Why would I want that?" He screwed his face at her, disbelievingly. "Because you're an imbecile?"

His cane went to the button board again. With a light jolt the elevator came to a halt. Cuddy swayed slightly but caught herself. She gave him a gaze of question, to his delight boarding on annoyance. He very much liked her annoyed. It made her passionate, her cheeks glow in a light pink.

"Tstststs, Cuddy. Imbecile? Not two weeks ago you were calling me a god."

She decided to play dumb. "And when exactly was that? Was I drunk?" He stepped closer to her, crowding her into the wall and deliberately entering her personal space.

"I wouldn't say drunk but you were definitely on something." His smirk was ardent. "On me."

His scent and the associated images sent a bolt of heat through her, spreading between her legs.

She gave a lascivious smile and leaned in to him, fixing his gaze.

"Was that before or after you begged for more?"

His left arm slid around her waist and he pressed himself against her. He gently nipped her lower lip and returned her smile. "After."

She didn't resist his lips, when they descended onto hers.

"Do you intent to make me beg again?" –"Maybe, if you're a good boy and do you clinic hours and manage do neither insult nor assault any patients or visitors, I might just abstain from make you beg. Even though, it **is** a major turn on, hearing you finally implore me for something you want."

She caught his lips again, enjoying the softness in texture and claiming in action. Her body seemed to hum in the close proximity and she definitely felt a reaction from him, from his lower regions to be exact. She felt wicked and aroused and risked pushing just a tad further, as she leaned over to his ear, giving the lobe a quick lick before whispering:

"If you do really good, Greg, I'll let you do anything you want."

It earned her a soft groan and a twitch as his hips bucked forward in an unconscious movement, his cock happily pulsing in anticipation. He fisted the material of her suit jacket and she used his current distraction to stroke along his right arm until she reached the cane, still pursed against the stop button and pushed the button beneath, jolting the elevator back into movement.

"I have an coffee date.", she smiled at him, retreated from his body and set her jacket straight as a gesture of recomposition. When the doors opened, Cleever was already standing at the nurses desk, his face lighting up when he saw her but darkening again slightly when he spotted the more hunched form of House, limping out of the elevator after her. He seemed to be leaning more forward onto his cane.

"There you are,", Cuddy beamed at him, "please excuse Dr. House, he just cannot help himself."

She winked at House, put her hand at her mouth and mock whispered "You know, men his age. They get frustrated easily. Just take what happened to your father."

Cleever took one last look at the tall figure, turned and led Cuddy out of the hospital, thankfully not seeing said diagnostician narrowing his eyes and sending angry daggers flying at Cleever's retreating form when he placed his hand on Cuddy's back, the exact same spot where his had been moments ago and where it was still supposed to be, leading her into her office or the restrooms or the maintenance, anyplace where she could take care of his half erect cock to allow him to limp decently again.

Another A/N: Sorry for ending rather abruptly but at the moment my desk is swamped with presentations I don't want to give, linguistic theories I don't care about and Greek vocabulary that is just beyond me!


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh my god, look at this! **

**I really managed to get this darn chapter finished!!!! I can hardly believe it myself. I am patting my shoulder as I write this!**

**Now, there is a certain change in mood, as you trusty readers will notice, and it might come a little sudden but I had to get through with it! It all seems a bit rushed but I cannot help it.**

**You need some angst, don't you, it would be boring otherwise.**

**Hopefully the next chappies will come a little faster than this one but you know how it is with them ideas and inspirations. They like to flee you when you most need them.**

**I'm keeping my fingers crossed, no, I need them to write.**

**Please leave me a review, I need some constructive criticism and inspiration!**

He shuffled through the clinic restlessly. He even offered to look at patients. He wasn't even booked for clinic duty but he had the best view of the entrance from here and would be able to see her coming back. So he lurked around the nurses desk, craning his neck only about every 12 seconds and pretending he was busy. A young man was more or less imitating his movements. Though he seemed rather annoyed about it.

"Are you mocking me?"

House asked with a slightly dangerous tone in his voice. The man in question gave a sneer.

"Why sure. I have a habit of always doing what looks the most idiotic!" –"I am looking for some one. I don't look idiotic."

House took a step closer to the guy, looking him up and down. About 25 years, about six feet tall, about average weight and definitely about to get pummeled if he continued joggling around. The guy stood up as House noticed a smiling Cameron coming into his field of vision, holding what looked like a paper cup. She handed it to Wiggly the probably not Australian. Nevertheless his own quip made him smile.

"Here you go, Mr. Lawson, have some water. I'm sure it won't take that long anymore."

Wiggly smiled back.

"You said that 40 minutes ago." –"And I'll keep saying it until it is true. I'll see if I can find your wife in the cafeteria."

She turned around and left.

House scowled as he watched her leave. His attention was caught by the man next to him as he lifted the cup to his lips. His arm started shaking, almost invisible at first, then stronger and suddenly, House felt a gush of moisture spreading on his shirt. He stared at the stain as dumb folded as the guy who'd poured the water on him, his arm shaking uncontrollably.

"S-s-s-sorr-r-r-yy.", he stuttered. House gave him a glare.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. I'm not sure just how much practice one needs to handle a cu…"

He didn't get to finish his indoctrination as Wiggly collapsed to the floor, jerking wildly.

A nanosecond later, a shriek pierced the clinic as a petite red head came running towards the jiggling body on the floor, followed by the ever caring Dr. Cameron.

"Oh my god, Barry", she looked up at the lean figure standing next to him. Cameron came to her aid.

"He's seizing, I need help here!", she yelled.

"YES! Wooohoooo! He's seizing!!"

House waved his cane in the air, grinning triumphantly. Cameron shot him an angry glance. Lawson's wife was close to tears.

"How nice this gives you such a pleasure", she yelled at him, "what sort of idiot are you?" –"A busy one, you'll come to notice.", he retorted.

As nurses were gathering around, intubating Wiggly, House happily announced towards Cameron "He's sick! Yay us."

She just stared at him, gravely.

"House, do you know the meaning of the words 'not appropriate' ?"

Her voice was low. He tuned his down as well.

"Cameron, do you know the meaning of the words 'I don't care' ? He's seizing, he's sick, we have a case. Now get the team, gather and freshen up your minds, I want a differential in," he checked his watch, "well, now."

Cameron looked at him incredulously.

"Go on, off you pop." He shushed her away with a notion of his hands.

By the time Cuddy returned, there was no sign of House. He wasn't in the clinic, neither in the cafeteria. Psych ward was just as empty and quiet, house-wise, as her office. For some reason that worried her. It usually meant that he was scheming something, or he had gone home. At about three o'clock that was just as unacceptable. She went to check his office and heard the loud thumping sound before she reached the glass wall. Wilson was standing in front of them, a mild grin on his face, staring, with his arms crossed, into the room. She reached him and nearly jumped when the glass right next to her was hit with a black marker. She saw the three mouseketeers sitting at the table, papers scattered around. The diagnostician paced the room from side to side with a deep scowl.

Cuddy turned to the Oncologist.

"He has a new case?" –"He wishes. Guy seized in the clinic, poured his water on House. I'm not sure if that's a justification to be mysteriously ill." –"He isn't?" –"He is, ct revealed a mass in the back of his brain. The tumor is pressing on his spinal chord, interfering with his Somatic Nervous System. Hence the problems with muscular movements and the seizures." –"Is it operable?" –"It is, if House decided to accept that it is cancer and not some infectious disease."

Cuddy turned back to the spectacle before her. Foreman had a weary look on his face, boarding on annoyance, typing away on his notebook. Chase was fairly indifferent, solving the Times cross-word and Cameron was just plain sullen.

Cuddy shook her head.

"I'll put an end to it."

She opened the door and stepped inside. House stopped in his tracks, Cameron gave her a pleading look, the other two didn't even bother.

"House, what is going on?" –"I'm trying to diagnose a patient. Wiggly, he has a drinking problem." He gestured at his shirt which had a darker spot, obviously some sort of moisture, on the left side. He pointed his cane at the table and the three doctors sitting at it.

"Obviously, I am the only one caring about him right now." –"You care about a case." –"Is there a difference?" –"Yes. The patient has a tumor." –"Says who?"

House stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. She'd be damned if she stepped back so she stood up to him. Suddenly she felt a presence behind her and a low voice.

"Says the Oncologist."

She hadn't noticed Wilson behind her and it distracted her temporarily. She stumbled back a little, hitting Wilson's chest in the process. Without thinking about it, House caught her arm to keep her from falling, wedging her between the two.

"Wow, I think I once had a dream like that."

_Oops. _With a surprised hitch she realised she had spoken aloud. Eight pairs of widened eyes and four mouths gaping open. She was sure, if she turned around she'd find a horrified Wilson fleeing the scene. With a feline movement she slipped out between the two doctors and made for the door. Right before she left the room she turned around once more, giving House a sly grin, pointing at the still awestruck Oncologist.

"But he's usually Angelina Jolie."

House was bored.

After the little intermezzo he was left with no case and a reoccurring image of Cuddy and Angelina Jolie, beckoning him to join them. He felt restless and, if he was honest, kind of longing. He realised with a certain shock that he was longing for Cuddy. He kept thinking of different scenarios for their next encounter. Every ten or so minutes his mind came up with another idea, involving his bed, or hers, her desk, his desk, even the backseat of his car. Come to think about it, he felt awfully pubescent. He couldn't help it, though. It was like a twitch, cursing through him again and again. He needed something to do. Unfortunately there was only one idea occupying his mind.

He wanted to bother Cuddy.

It was, as much as he tried to deny it, something he not just enjoyed but craved. He didn't like authorities and he liked to spar with them, especially female authority figures. He would have pissed off any other administrator as well but Cuddy was able to actually put up a fight.

It didn't have anything to do with how she slid her eyes shut briefly at his partly outrageous demands. It didn't have anything to do with the way she accentuated her hips by putting her hands on them, slightly leaning back, neither with the way she rolled her eyes in annoyance and he could still see the tiny smile which tugged on her lips when she looked at him. Those factors were all completely irrelevant.

He limped along the corridor on his mission to find something, well, someone, to play. He heard her before he saw her. The step was unmistakable. He rounded a corner to see her coming right towards her, balancing on her arms what looked suspiciously like case files.

"House, great, I was just on my way to find you." –" Really? Can't get enough of me? I mean, I can fully understand that but…" –" Since you were so eager to get case, I decided you could look through your old files, finishing your paperwork."

She mentioned with her chin towards the armload of manila folders she was carrying. He followed her notion with his eyes but was short tracked as he came across her cleavage. He let his eyes linger there and smiled.

"Oh, how I'd love to look through these. I'd even get my hands on them, to examine."

His proposition had the desired effect. Cuddy rolled her eyes and gave him a smile. She played along.

"Oh, goody, well, that should keep you occupied for the rest of the day."

His eyebrows rose just as his grin did.

"My dear Cuddy, I appreciate your recognition of my stamina but I think right now, you're either overestimating my virility or " , his face fell in a mock pout, " you're mocking it. Which one is it?"

Cuddy pursued her path to the diagnosticians office, winking at his over her shoulder.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out."

He was sure she put and extra sway in her hips as she walked away from him, her ass drawing him to it, following her as fast as possible. In a sudden flash of mind her grabbed her arm as they passed an empty x-ray room and he dragged her into it. It was only dimly lit but that made it even more intimate. He pushed her up against the door, taking the folders from her as they threatened to fall from her arms. He rubbed his hands together, licking his lips at the sight of her chest rising and falling with her elevated breathing.

"Now, about that examining."

He slowly laid his fingers onto her clavicle, slowly sliding, tickling them lower to their destination. All of a sudden, his mind was in a haze. Former images flashed into his mind, her scent working like Pavlov's bell. His lips moved of their own accord, descending onto her lips, eager to feel the softness of them, moving against his own.

Her voice reached his ears but for some reason it wasn't the sound he was expecting. He felt her hands on his forearms.

"House, stop."

He couldn't quite make the words out but it didn't stop him in his ministrations. The feel of her skin under his palms sent little shocks of electricity up his fingers, exploding in his groin in pleasure bolts. The grip on his arms tightened.

"HOUSE."

He stopped to look at her. For some strange reason her eyes weren't nearly as dazed as he knew his were.

"Stop." , she repeated.

He was absolutely dumbfounded. Her breathing was still a little ragged and she swallowed hard. He stared at her incredulously.

"What?" –" You heard me. I said, stop."

He took a step back. That wasn't nearly what she had said, not in any of the scenarios in his mind. He was more than slightly taken aback and completely confused.

"Why?"

It seemed, his mind was currently reduced to one-word questions.

Cuddy took another deep breath.

"This is neither the time nor the place for this. In private, yes but not at work." –"What is this shit?" He was beginning to feel a pang of anger flare up.

She took a step towards him and laid her hand on his chest. In an purely instinct movement he pushed her hand away, his body regretting the movement immediately.

"I need to keep professionalism her, House."

Again, she took a gulp of air. Hie expression told her that he was blatantly pissed off. It made her words all the harder to articulate. Cuddy mustered all her administrative attitude.

"I want our personal relation to remain personal. We can't let this happen at work." –"Oh, so earlier in the elevator, what was that? Was that your professionalism?"

He almost snarled the words at her. In his brain her words were conflicting with his physical reactions. She remained calm.

"It was a mistake. I let myself be carried away but we have to stop this, House."

This rejection stung deeply in both, his mind and his stomach and her distance fueled his acrimony.

"You know, you're right. We should stop this. Altogether! It was a mistake. And for your information, we don't have a personal relation. We fucked, great deal. You can find yourself someone else to get off on. I'm out!"

With that he all but pushed her aside as he went out the door, letting it slam shut.

Cuddy leaned back against it with a deep sigh. She closed her eyes tightly and dragged her hand over her face. He could have taken it worse. He was House, after all. He got sullen when he didn't get what he wanted. He'd get over it. _For fuck's sake, who are you kidding, _an inner voice cried, _he couldn't have taken it in any worse way._

She recollected herself, recollected the forgotten files, straightened her back and got out. She still was his boss, after all. Not in a million years he'd make her avoid him or neglect his work. She determinedly made her way to his office. She saw him sitting in the larger of the two rooms, brooding. He glanced at her, his face grim and deliberately turned away. Shaking her head, she entered his office, placing the files onto his desk. She left without any further word. He'd get over it. _Yeah, right._

House was angry, incredibly angry. He had driven home in a stupor, not caring for anything or anyone. He kicked the door of his car shut, wincing at the bolt of pain in his leg. When entering his apartment he wisely slammed the door instead of kicking again.

He had another fantasy now. He was calling Cuddy all sorts of names, cursing her, yelling.

She had the impertinence of leading him on. She had pushed him back, unknowingly igniting all the insecurities hidden in the depths of his being, bashing his ego in its most vunerable place.

He sat down heavily, trying to calm himself. The thoughts rocketed through his skull. She didn't want him. She wasn't all crazy about him. He wasn't good enough. He was incapable of satisfying her. He'd let her close and she had trampled on him.

He didn't need her. She might have been a fairly good fuck but it wasn't as if that had anything to do with her in particular. There were a lot of women who could provide that. He'd needed to get off and she was there, coincidentally. He'd show her that. She'd be begging him for attention.

With an angry snort he reached for the phone to dial a memorized number.


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, look at that, new chapter, so quickly!**

**To be honest, I have to write another essay and as you all probably know, anything is more interesting than writing a dull paper.**

**So I got this working. It's short, but you'll have to excuse that.**

**Oh, yes, and you have to excuse the mistakes in the previous chapter. I reread it and the more I read, the more mistakes popped up. **

**I swear, it wasn't me!**

**It's the mistake-trolls! They creep in at night and change words and letters, making me look like an idiot, incapable of correct English.**

Cuddy sat in her office contemplating the recent events. The image coming back to haunt her like a reoccurring nightmare was the coldness in Houses eyes when she pushed him from her. It should have been absolutely clear to her that his reaction wouldn't have been one of general understanding but she'd hoped that he at least would have grasped a tad of her sentiment.

It had been hard enough fighting off various rumours of her involvement with the head of diagnostics for the last years but now that, at least part of those rumours were true, it would be even harder. Not to mention a certain physician who wallowed in just those rumours and had a never ending persistence in keeping them up.

She had made the decision to keep him at bay during work hours when Cleever had asked her about her involvement with House during their coffee date. She'd fidgeted around the subject but he'd seemed to sense what was going on.

The fact that she had voiced her thought on having a dream about House and Wilson and even teasing House more by mentioning another female, actress or not, made her realise that she was walking on dangerous ground. Different from House, she had a reputation to maintain, one that didn't involve the words _bastard, imbecile_ or _infuriating_.

She went home that night, not just deep in thought but with a strange feeling of emptiness and detachment.

She couldn't recall how many times her fingers itched and almost grabbed the phone in order to call him, try and make him understand or just simply say 'sorry'. She didn't really have a clue why she should apologise but it seemed like a suitable thing to do.

She didn't, though.

She'd sit this one out. He'd probably come around, it wasn't like he was not capable of common sense, he just chose to ignore it.

Still, she went to bed with a lumpy feeling in her throat.

* * *

He was in a foul mood. The first indication was that he arrived at PPTH at ten past nine. That was approximately 40 minutes before his usual emergence. The second indication was that he didn't grace the jar filled with lollipops with even one single glance. He limped to the elevator, further to his office. The third indication was not even one mocking comment on a certain Australian doctor sitting at the table, wearing a ridiculous lilac shirt. House got himself a cup of coffee, went to his office, not bothering to close the blinds even though he would have liked to but the sheer effort was too much. He sat down with a frown. He was tired. His night hadn't been the best. If he was honest with himself it had been horrible, in terms of sleeping. A mysterious debility had taken over his body and nothing could displace it.

He gulped the coffee down, rubbing a hand over his tired face. In front of him still lay a pile of folders, waiting for his attendance. In a sudden flare of discontent he pushed them off the desk. They clattered to the ground. _That'll show them! Stupid folders._

As there was nothing to do and he wasn't even scheduled for clinic for at least another two hours he decided to catch up on some much needed sleep. His attempts were futile, though. Frustration was gaining more ground by the minute. He hadn't gained any relief from his stress the previous night and that fact made him even more aggravated.

He felt the need to let it out on some one. After weighing the ideas in his mind he made to find himself some alleviation.

Wilson was right next door.

He barged into his office giving him a scare and earning an annoyed look which pleased him immediately.

"Jimmy.", he greeted as he plopped down into a chair.

"House. Is there anything I can help you with?"

It was clear, that the Oncologist had other things do to than endure a foul-mooded friend.

"There is. Entertain me." –"Don't you have a team for that?" –"I do, but they bore me. So thought I'd drop by and chat you up a little. Who are you screwing at this time of year?" –"And that would be your concern because…?" –"I'm just curious."

Wilson sighed audibly.

"House, what is this about? Are you still mad because Cuddy took that case from you that wasn't really your case to begin with?"

The reaction made him think he'd hit a spot. Though his reasons were slightly different. House creased his face up, his mouth twisting into a thin smile.

"Well, Cuddy. The mighty, mighty dean, walking around this hospital. Looking all high and mighty, playing people for suckers to have them do as she pleases. Why on earth would I be mad at her?"

Somewhen throughout this information, Wilson decided that at least part of his cognition had been wrong. House was defiantly mad at Cuddy but seemingly for some other reason than the case. Something completely different.

"House, what is it?"

He knew his friend wouldn't tell him but it was worth a try, even if House would ramble on in his weird metaphors, telling him nothing by saying about a hundred words. The simplicity of his statement made him wonder, though.

"She's a bitch."

His face took on a grim look.

"And you've just noticed that now? Care to tell me why?" –"No." –"Then, why are you here?" –"I just wanted you to know."

As House started fiddling with Wilson's pens, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in.", the Oncologist called out.

The door opened to reveal talked about dean of medicine entering with a clipboard under her arm. Her glance passed over the diagnostician with an nearly unnoticeable hesitation before she focused back on the other doctor.

"Wilson, I'm here to inquire about Mr. Lawson. He is scheduled", she checked the board," for the OR this afternoon, isn't that a little early?" –"Well, his tests were all right, the tumor is 100 operable so I don't see any reason not to get it over with as soon as possible."

House tipped the pencil container over.

"Oh, yes, you care about this patient, do you?" , he snarled at her. Not that is was of any use but he just had to say something to get to her. At this moment he was looking for a fight. Unfortunately, Cuddy ignored him.

"If that's the case, good. Who's doing the surgery? Dr. Kent?" –"Yes." –"Well, that means, if everything goes ok, Mr. Lawson can be released the day after tomorrow."

Again, House tried to get in between this conversation.

"Yeah, chuck him out quickly or he might be bothering you in hospital. Unprofessionally and all."

Finally, Cuddy turned her head towards him.

"Was I talking to you?"

He got up, nearly pushing over the chair, grabbing his cane.

"No, you weren't. That would not be professional." He was genuinely angry now. "Thank god Jimmy is still here. I wonder what unprofessional things would happen here, otherwise." He turned to his friend. "Didn't you say you wanted to leave?"

Wilson held out his hands.

"This is **my** office." –"Fine.", House almost yelled before heading out the door, letting it shut with a bang.

Wilson's eyes were set firmly on Cuddy.

"What the hell was that?" She just shrugged. "How should I know? He was out of cereal this morning?" –"No, no, no. There is something else. He is really mad. He called you a bitch a minute ago."

It made her cringe slightly. Wilson tried a calmer approach.

"Cuddy, what's going on?" –"Nothing. He's an asshole, I'm a bitch, everything is just peachy."

She left without a further word.

* * *

The day dragged on as Cuddy made up her mind. Not just that this was unacceptable in a working environment, it was unbearable for her personally. If he was angry and wanted to shout at her, fine. She's get it over with. Even though the thought of it made her feel sick. She really just wanted to tell him she was sorry, beg him not to be angry and then, well, kiss him senseless was a good idea. But she doubted that would happen.

With determination she made to her car around seven o'clock, mustering up all her courage to drive over to House's place to confront him. The sky was darkening with thick clouds, announcing more rain. She entered the building, taking deep and calming breaths, preparing herself for his fury. She didn't prepare for what was about to happen though. Not in the least.

She was about to knock when the door was swung open from the inside and she was faced with a woman, about 25 years of age, blond hair, a rather skimpy dress, far too much lipstick and a big bag under her arm. Cuddy froze, as the woman pushed past her, mumbling something like 'good luck, honey' and vanished down the hallway. Behind her in the door stood House, with a rumpled shirt, slightly pushed up, pants partly open, his belt dangling to the sides, zipper down. As she looked at him she could see all sorts of emotions flickering across his eyes. At last they grew large and he opened his mouth.

"I…"

She was quicker, raising her hand and closing her eyes briefly. She gave him an adament look.

"Don't.Even.Say.A.Word."

As she turned and left, she heard the door closing again. After a couple of feet she stopped, squeezing her eyes shut, lightly banging her head against a wall. Tears were pricking at her eyes but she forced them back, not willing to let them fall. Not yet. She somehow managed to push back the threatening rush of emotions and made her way out of the building. She stood on the pavement, looking around, lost, not sure where she left her car, had she even arrived with it anyway?

She nearly jumped, when she heard a female voice coming from her left.

"Gee, that was quick, he didn't even let you in, did he?"

Cuddy jerked her head around, finding herself confronted with the young woman again, a small sneer forming on her lips.

"Believe me, it's better, that guys a weirdo!"

Cuddy shook her head.

"What?" –"That guy, the cripple. He's a freak, I tell you. He called the agency yesterday, asking for a girl, a blonde. Well, we were all booked out so Angie, my friend, went. Won't be that bigga deal, she thought. Came back an hour later, saying he got angry when he saw she was a brunette. He was drunk, methinks. Short story, he yelled at her, whatever, she left. Today, cripple calls again, making it clear he wanted a blonde, so I went.

He was really strange, telling me to shut up and just get to work but let me tell you, he can't get it up! I started working, you know, jerking him off but, nothing, totally nothing. So, I thought, well suck him off a bit, get him in the mood but as I tried to pull his pants down, he pulled them back up, got all mad, saying 'don't do that' and 'leave me alone'. I told'em 'honey, if you want to get this done you need to get rid of them pants' but he wouldn't. He started pushing me away, telling me to get lost. I said, 'gee, just 'cos you got trouble with the girlfriend, you don't have ta take it out on me'. He was murmuring things, got really creepy. And then I said 'fuck off, I don't know what your problem is but you ought to get help. And Viagra. Lots of it!' That set him off and he started yelling, so I left. Then you came."

Cuddy stared at her with her mouth hanging open. She reminded herself to shut it again. A cab pulled up and the woman got in. She rolled down the window, tipping her head towards the apartment building.

"Better get outa here. I swear to god, that guys a freak!"

**A/N: Haha! ****Any grammatical or spelling mistakes were not done by me! Really!**


	10. Chapter 10

**OMG!!!! Who'd a thunk I'd be back? **

**I certainly hadn't. **

**But here I am with another instalment. A short one but still….**

**Enjoy and review a little, just for the fun of it!**

Cuddy didn't know how she made her way back home without an accident, her mind in a haze. She all but ran to her door, rushing inside. There, she finally let the tears fall. Sobs were racking her body as she slid down the door.

Pressing her hands to her face, she allowed herself to let desperation take over.

What she had become witness of cut deeper than anything she could imagine.

She desperately tried to erase the vision from her memory but it was in vain. A tiny voice in her head snickered at her, telling her that this was exactly why one did not get involved with Gregory House. She had simply told him to back off at work and he had backed off completely. To replace her with a prostitute was more than she could have imagined him to do to hurt her.

What was it that girl had told her, he was a freak? He was indeed. And an utter bastard as well.

So this was it, then.

After a good 20 minutes on the floor she dragged herself into the living room, collapsing o the couch. Her throat was burning from the crying and she swallowed several time and took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Whatever was going on, there was going to be tomorrow and she had to go back to the hospital, face him again. She pressed her lips together and made her resolve. She'd be professional tomorrow. She assumed House would just as well pretend nothing had happened and for once, she'd go along with it. She went into her bedroom, discarding her clothes on the way, leaving them carelessly lying on the floor.

Cuddy cried silently as she tried to sleep.

After a series of short naps, ended usually by her sitting upright in her bed with the picture of House opening the door with his pants open in her head, she decided to get up at five o'clock and keep herself busy with housework until she finally went to work at 7.30.

House stomped into his office around ten. He closed the curtains to make it clear to anyone that he didn't want to e disturbed. He eyed the drawer wearily for a minute. He was deeply tempted to open it and get a good swig of scotch he had hidden in there. Well, not so much hidden, really, everybody knew the bottle was in there.

House was almost relieved as the day dragged on without any incidents. He stayed in his chair mostly, eyeing files and dismissing them curtly, nothing poking his interest. Just to pass some time he ordered a couple of MRIs, most of them unnecessary but who cared?

When Wilson arrived to indulge in some friendly conversation he made his way to supervise the MRIs, again unnecessary but he didn't feel like Wilson chatting him up.

He leaned on the wall casually as an elderly man was heaved onto the MRI stretcher and pushed into the tube.

He lingered behind as the procedure finished and the patient was wheeled back into his room. The silent room provided him with the solitude he longed for today. Slowly the wall of anger he had built up this morning crumbled away.

He tried to get it back; he was angry, angry at himself mostly but still. Well, if he was honest he was more embarrassed for his failure the night before. The hooker was supposed to be revenge for Cuddy's rejection but it had turned out that his body wouldn't think that way. It had refused to work as it was supposed to, leaving him like an impotent idiot. And not just once but twice even. And whose fault was that? Right, the little administrator. If it hadn't been for her, if she hadn't invaded his head everything would still be peachy. He would be grumpy but at ease, oblivious to that stupid lump in his throat and lurking around the hospital stealing lollipops without fearing that he would run into Cuddy.

With a loud thump the door swung open and, god dammit, just that Cuddy appeared in his sight. Her brows were raised and she gave him a level look.

"Did you order a MRI for...," she checked a chart,"Mr. Wells?" – "Mr. Who?" –"Mr. Wells. Elderly man? Greyish hair? Dark eyes? It says you ordered an MRI."

House screwed up his face for a second.

"Oh, yes, right. That one. Yeah, I ordered it, he went out just a minute ago. If you stalk really quickly you might still catch him." –"He was admitted with zoster." –"So?" –"So? Could you explain to me how the MRI fits into this whole scheme?"

He thought for a second to find at least witty reply to that. Unfortunately he couldn't come up with one.

"I was bored?", he offered.

"And you couldn't think of a, say, less expensive way to keep you occupied? Wheelchair-race? Harassing Wilson? "

House shook his head, slowly. "Not in the mood. See, I'm feeling quite unsatisfied at the moment and I need something to lighten up my mood and as much as I enjoy Wilson's ramblings they just won't do it right now."

Cuddy pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, this was dangerous ground.

"Please, House, do not order random MRIs on patients with any sort of skin condition or colds or sprained ankles. And don't order MRIs on yourself. Find something else."

House's face was grim. Yes, the anger was finally back. If she thought he'd let her get away like nothing ever happened she was very wrong.

"Well, I could think of one or two things that would peek my interest. His smile wasn't pleasant. But that would involve... "

He let the words linger and eyed Cuddy's chest thoughtful.

"But, oh, wait, no, what I have in mind would involve, how did you call it? Physical contact. And you wouldn't want that, would you?" He all but snarled the last words.

"House!" Cuddy hissed.

"What?" –"Not here." –"Not here? Not now? Oh, yes, sure. Let's just forget. You had your share. What was it? A pity fuck? Wow, I feel really special now."

He turned to the door, determined to leave.

Cuddy snapped. She shoved at him, with surprising force, as House noticed.

"What the heck do you think you're doing? Do you think I'm doing this to punish you? I tell you something. I didn't tell you to back off because I didn't want you."

Her gaze wandered around as if she expected someone to pop up any second.

"I did that because I couldn't keep my hands off you. And what do you think would have happened, had anyone gotten wind of this? Someone would have told someone else who would have told a board member. They would have disapproved, formed a committee, set up questioning.

Now, I don't have a problem dealing with those people, I do it for a living. But you? You know what would have happened? They would have questioned you, the first two minutes you would have mocked them, two more minutes you'd have insulted them and within five minutes you would have been out of a job. Without me, or Wilson, or anyone being able to do a single thing about it."

Her gaze bore into him as he stood, stunned.

Without a further word she left, slamming the door behind her.


End file.
